The Life and Death of Rosalie Hale
by Stacy L
Summary: Rosalie Hale was the most beautiful girl in town, admired by every man for miles around. This is the story of her life, death, and subsequent rebirth into a world she never dreamed existed, or dreamed to be a part of.


**Chapter 1**

**The Errand**

"Rosalie!" squealed a falseto voice from the hallway. It was followed by a fury of snickering, then a loud bang on my bedroom door. The mocking voice once again shrieked, "Rosalie! Get up. You have to have time to get beautiful before the sun comes up and sees you like this." The laughter continued, but stopped abruptly when someone downstairs yelled.

The sun wasn't up yet? I opened my eyes and pulled the blankets up higher, shivering against the early morning air. I glared at the door, knowing my two younger brothers were standing on the other side. "Why are you two up so early? Don't you have anything better to do than bother me while I'm sleeping?"

I heard Harold, the eldest, bouncing up and down with excitment, pleased to have enticed a reaction out of me. William, however, wasn't bouncing, and I heard him sniffle. I frowned. "Willie, I'm sorry. Come in here and give me a proper good morning."

The door creaked open and I saw him peek around the edge, grinning. I smiled back and held my arms open for him, which he glady ran over and jumped into. "I sorry, Rosie," he said. "Mama woke us up and told us to tell you that you had to get up."

"Did she now?" I replied, kissing the top of his head. "What's she doing that prevented her from telling me herself?"

"She's talking to Father."

I bit my bottom lip and wrinkled my forehead. "Oh. It must have something to do with Phillip Carlton. Father was speaking with his parents last night at the restaurant. I know he fancies me, and the way he watches me walk by is almost indecent. Panting, nearly. Can you believe it? In public, too."

"You're very beautiful, Rosie," William replied in a rehearsed manner. "Everyone loves looking at you. I don't blame them one bit."

I beamed down at him. "Thank you, Willie."

"Who's Phillip Carlton?" he replied, puffing up his cheeks, then pressing them back in with his hands to make a squishing noise.

"Don't do that," I said, pulling his hands away from his face. "He's a boy, really. Not established enough to be called a man. Sure, his family is wealthy, but have you seen his teeth? They're hideous. And that hair? I can't be seen with him. Surely Father isn't thinking of letting him call on me."

I pondered for a moment, wrinkling my forehead in worry. William reached up and rubbed my forehead with a finger. "Mama says you get wrinkles if you do that."

"Oh," I said, forcing my face mucles relax. "Right. Thanks. And maybe the talk wasn't about Phillip at all. Maybe it's about Father's work."

William shrugged, uninterested, and cuddled up to my side, shutting his eyes. I heard the door creak open wider and looked over to see Harold standing just inside my room. He scowled.

"Of course it's not about Father's work. It's about you. It's always about you."

William opened his eyes again and looked up at me sleepily. "Why is it always about you, Rosie?"

"Because she's Mother and Father's favorite. She's everyone's favorite," Harold retorted.

"Harry," I said, unable to supress a smile. "They just want what's best for me. And what's good for me is good for you, right?"

"That's what they say, but I don't believe it. I think they just like you better, just like everyone else in town," Harold scoffed.

William nodded in agreement to something, but it wasn't Harold. "They all like Rosie cause she's pretty."

Harold walked over and smacked William on the arm. "You don't have to say things like that when Mother and Father aren't around. They won't scold you for not complimenting her if they can't hear you, idiot."

William teared up. I rubbed his arm gently. "Apologize, Harold," I said in almost a growl, glaring in his direction. He straightened his posture and obeyed.

"C-come on, Will. Let's go get some breakfast and leave Rose to get ready. She's got a big day. I wouldn't want to disturb her anymore." William looked at Harold, confused, then glanced up at me. Upon seeing the stern look on my face, he nodded and quickly got out off the bed and ran over to the door with Harold.

Just then, Mother burst into the room, a fancy pink dress draped over her arms. My eyes lit up. "You got it!" I screamed excitedly.

"Of course I did. I saw you admiring it at the store last week. I thought you could wear it to the gala tonight. You'll be so beautiful," she said, ignoring the indignant looks from my brothers.

"Mama, did you get me the train set? I saw it last week, too," William said hopefully, looking up at her with big eyes.

She ruffled his hair. "Sorry, dear. Maybe for your birthday."

"But how come Rosie gets a dress? It's not her birth-" He was cut off by Harold grabbing his hand tightly.

"I told you, Will. She's just spoiled."

I rolled my eyes, getting out of bed and smiling wider as I took the dress in my hands. "It's so beautiful," I squealed excitedly as I held the dress up to my body and twirled, watching the bottom fly up as I did.

"I'm glad you like it," said Mother. "Now come on, I have an errand for you to run after breakfast. We mustn't laze about all day."

I nodded and layed the dress neatly on my bed before following her downstairs.

After breakfast, Mother rushed me back upstairs to get ready. I quickly took a bath and brushed my hair, sliding a silver barrette into the curls for a touch of glamor. I smiled at myself in the mirror, then walked back into my room to get dressed, my robe tied tightly around me. Mother was waiting for me there when I arrived, holding up one of my prettier dresses.

"Here. Wear this, with those," she said, then nodded to a pair of black pumps. "You'll look beautiful."

She hung the dress over my changing screen and I eyed her choices, a bit confused. "What sort of errand am I to-" I started, but she cut me off.

"Oh, just to the market for some bread." She nonchalantly flipped her hair behind her shoulder and I smiled, knowing she was thinking of something more than dinner rolls.

"The market?" I said tauntingly. "For bread? Oh, come on, tell me." I climbed on the bed and bit my bottom lip in excitment. "What is it really? Did Father buy me something?"

"No, no," she said, shaking her head as she looked at me. "Nothing like that." She sighed and walked over, placing her hand on my forehead. "You mustn't get so excited, Rosalie. It makes your face flush. It's not at all becoming, and you must look your best today." She smiled and ran her hand down my cheek. "You never know who you'll meet in town."

I frowned. "At the market? It's not Phillip, is it?" I wrinkled my forehead in concern, but quickly ran my hand across it, relaxing my face muscles again. "Really, Mother, he's quite-"

"No, not at the market. And no, not Phillip. You're much too beautiful for him," she said, kissing my forehead. "Someone much more your match."

I giggled, hugging a pillow to my stomach. "Handsome? Humphry? No. Oh, who is it, Mother? And where am I going to meet him if not at the market? I thought that's where I was going."

"Your father left his ledger here by mistake. You'll need to take it by his work on your way."

"Someone at Father's work, then?" I asked, perplexed. All of the men I'd seen who worked at the bank were fat, balding, or married. "His colleague?"

"His client," Mother said with a twinkle in her eye. "A most wealthy one. There's rumor his son is back from abroad and will stop by the bank today to conduct some business with him. He's around your age, a little older, perhaps, and has exquisite taste. There's no way he'll be able to refuse such a pretty face."

She pinched my cheek, then frowned. "Fan that. Get the redness out so I can help you with your makeup."

She left so I could change, but I sat on the bed for a moment, pondering dreamily. I was almost completely lost in my musings when a loud bang came from below. The front door had just slammed shut and I ran to the window to see what it was. It was Harold and William heading off to school. William looked up at my window and grinned, waving enthusiastically. I smiled and gave him a small wave back, then walked back to the bed.

I took off my robe and dressed quickly so I'd have time to make sure I looked perfect before Mother came back. I stood in front of the mirror and twirled once. Upon closer inspection of my reflection, I narrowed my eyes and bent down to further examine my left shoe. "Mother!" I sceamed, panicked. "Someone's ruined my shoe!"

She burst in the room and walked over to me. "Calm down, Rosalie. It's not ladylike to yell so much. You'll scare the men away." Her eyes fell on my shoe, where there was a knick in the leather. "Oh, well, that won't do. Wear the silver ones. I'll have some new ones made for you tomorrow. You must hurry now. The Kings will be at the bank at precisely eight o'clock."

"The Kings?" I gasped, holding a hand over my heart. The Kings were the most influential and wealthy family in town, and their son, Royce, was extraordinarily handsome by any measure. If I married him, I'd be the envy of every girl within a hundred miles.

"Oh dear," Mother said, shutting her eyes. "It was meant to be a secret."

"A secret? You musn't keep things like Royce King coming to the bank from me. I need to look perfect. I'll never be ready in time." I rushed over to the mirror and smoothed down my hair. I grabbed a few necklaces out of the drawer and examined them. I ended up picking one that dangled low, creating a line that subtly pointed downward, in hopes of causing Rocye's eyes to take in all the curves of my body. I would never tell anyone that was the reason I loved that particular necklace so much. As far as they knew, it was merely because it featured my initals on a charm at the clasp, but there was more appeal to it than just that. Every time I wore it, I recieved twice as many compliments as normal and twice as many men would drop their jaws when I walked by.

Mother jumped in after I adjusted the necklace and flawlessly applied my makeup. When she was done, I took a step back and examined myself, smiling brightly. "What do you think?" I asked, smoothing down my dress in the front.

"You look beautiful. He'll have no choice but to fall madly in love with you," Mother replied and laid the silver pumps at my feet. "You must hurry, though. It's nearly time."

I stepped into the shoes and took one last look in the mirror. I did look beautiful, especially for a morning errand, which was my cover. 'Royce will love me. Royce will love me.' I repeated it over and over in my head as I grabbed my bag and walked downstairs. Mother brought me Father's ledger and saw me to the door. She waved as I walked down the path and crossed the street. The bank wasn't far, but I'd still have to hurry to get there on time to catch the Kings before the meeting started. I heard the church clock chime, signaling that it was a quarter til eight, and I quickened my pace.

A few moments later, I turned the corner and was half a block from the bank. A block beyond the bank door, I saw two men walking, both of them tall, handsome, and obviously monied. I slowed down, adjusting the ledger to my side so as to not block their view of me. The closer I got to the bank, the slower I walked. I'd let Royce open the door for me. I'd smile and thank him demurely. He'd take my hand and kiss it, offering me complients on my beauty and grace. He'd asked to call on me, and I'd accept, faking reluctancy. We'd go on strolls in the park, and then he'd finally propose under the moonlight. He'd be down on one knee and holding up a ring with a huge diamond and say-

"Ma'am?"

I jerked my head up. Royce was standing not two feet away, staring straight at me. I looked to my right and saw that we were in precisely in front of the bank door. I blushed, having lost myself in my daydreams so much as to not realize how far I'd actually walked.

"Are you going in?" he asked politely, motioning toward the bank.

"Thank you," I replied, then I froze, and I could feel the blood rushing to my face.

'Thank you?' I repeated in my head. Thank him for what? He hadn't even opened the door for me yet. I was getting ahead of myself. I had to compose myself, fast.

I cleared my throat, nodding. "Thank you, yes," I said, trying to smooth things over.

To my relief, he nodded and smiled, obviously not catching my fault. When I actually focused on him again, I noticed his eyes were gliding over my body. I bit my bottom lip and grinned, extra pleased with myself for my jewelry choice. He finally looked back up into my eyes.

"After you," he said, opening the door.

His voice was like velvet, and I stood amazed for a moment, just staring into his dark eyes. I swallowed and flashed him a smile.

"Thank you," I said, appropriately this time.

With a sweeping motion, he bowed slightly, then offered me his hand, which I gladly took. I stepped up the small step into the bank, but he didn't let my hand go once I was inside.

"Is that your ledger?" he asked, stepping in after me. His father followed us through the door and headed straight over to the secretary's desk.

"Oh, no. It's my father's. He left at home this morning, so I came to bring it to him."

"That was very thoughtful of you," Royce said, carressing the back of my hand with his thumb. I forgot how to breathe for a moment. "What's your name?"

"Rosalie Hale," I replied as calmly as I could. I flashed him another smile. It never hurt.

"Well, Rosalie Hale," he said, pulling my hand up to his lips and kissing it softly. "It was a pleasure encountering such a beautiful creature. I hope it will not be the last time."

He let go of my hand and started over toward his father. 'Good,' I said to myself, replaying the encounter in my head. 'But not good enough.' As gracefully as I could, I walked over and stopped beside him at the secretary's desk. He glanced over at me, his eyes once again darting to my chest. I suppressed a smile, pretending not to notice, as Margorie looked up at me from her seat.

"Good morning, Miss Hale," she said politely.

"Good morning," I replied. "Father left his ledger at home. Would you give it to him for me?"

"Of course," she said, taking the book from me.

"Charles Hale is your father?" Royce asked, raising his eyebrows and nodding slightly. "Interesting."

"Yes," was all I could say. I could feel that his eyes were fixed on the side of my face, but I didn't turn to look at him. My cheeks were burning and I was nearly shaking. This was it. He was going to ask to call on me – this weekend, probably.

At that moment, Margorie stood up. "Mr. King, Mr. King," she said, nodding to each of them in turn. "Mr. Hale will see you now."

No. I glared at Margorie, but she was too preoccupied with showing the Kings in to notice. Royce left my side and followed her into my father's office. He glanced back at me and I gave him a pathetic little wave before Margorie shut the door, cutting my dreams off from me forever.

How could this happen? How could he not want me? 'He did want me,' I said to myself. 'It's that dolt Margorie who ruined it. I'll never have another chance. My life is ruined.'

I was so upset on the walk home that I had no idea how I found myself sobbing in the parlour, my mother rubbing my hair soothingly.

"What happened, dear?" she said. "And where's the bread?"

"The bread, mother?" I choked out, appauled she would even think to bring up food at a time like this. "Perhaps it's on the side of a dirt road with the rest of my hopes and dreams."

"Did you not meet Royce?" she replied, almost panicked. "Your father said-"

"Yes, I met him!" I screamed, shoving her away from me. "Margorie escorted him away before he had a chance to ask to call on me." I wailed loudly, collapsing back onto the couch.

Mother scowled. "I've told your father that Margorie was up to no good. He should have fired her ages ago." She sighed, shaking her head. "But you still should have sealed the deal, despite her interferences. He would be perfect, Rosalie. I'm disappointed in you."

I looked up at her, tears streaming down my face. "I-I'm sorry. I tried. I really tried. I thought he was going to-"

The front door flew open at that precise moment and my father strode in, his face red as if he'd been running. Mother and I stood and turned to him.

"Charles, what is it?" Mother asked, moving closer to him and holding her hand out.

He beamed, looking past her at me. "I just couldn't wait until lunch to tell you the good news. Royce King has asked my permission to escort Rosalie to the gala this very evening."

Mother gasped and clapped a hand to her heart. "Goodness me. That soon? Rosalie, we must make sure you're perfect, better than perfect." She reached over and patted me gently on the cheek. "I knew you could do it, sweetheart."

I gave her a weak smile before turning back to Father.

"You did it, angel," he said, opening his arms for me. "I'm so proud of you."

I rushed forward and threw my arms around him, drying my eyes on his shoulder. He rubbed my back gently and kissed my cheek. Our moment was cut short, however, by Mother, who insisted that I go upstairs this instant to sleep.

"You don't want to have dark circles under your eyes, do you?" she asked.

No, I certainly did not. I wanted my face to light up the room at the gala tonight, my smallest grin to outshine every other woman's most earnest attempt at a smile. I wanted to dance the night away with Royce King. I wanted him to be mine...for the rest of our lives.


End file.
